Full House: Everyone has a Secret
by Mrs EaC
Summary: So, you know the real characters on Full House, but no one's life can be that perfect, can it? What happens when the characters start to clean house and all they find are skeletons in the closet?  Disclaimer: Harsh language, don't read if it offends.


The late afternoon sun streaked through the window of the Tanner family dining room. Joey stood over the stove, stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce methodically. He gazed sadly over the spotless kitchen and thought _fucking stupid Tanner's. I could be a millionaire right now with a huge career comedy. I would be known throughout college campuses everywhere as "that guy who does that 'cut it out' thing" but nooooo. I've got to make fucking dinner for the lamest family of all time. I am such a fucking loser._

Sighing dramatically, Joey reached for the salt shaker and dumped in way too much, wishing instead that it were rat poison. But, of course Uncle Jesse had quit that exterminator job awhile back and the once seemingly endless supply of spider sprays, rat poisons and beetle killers had long since dried up.

Joey looked dismally at the sharp butcher knife laying on the glistening white countertop. He reached for it and gripped the wooden handle tightly in his palm. Just as he was about to drag the steely blade across his milky wrists, the doorbell rang. Startled, Joey dropped the knife and shook his head, jarred back into reality. Wiping his hands on the blue flowery apron, Joey pushed open the kitchen door and walked into the equally pristine living room to open the front door.

Before he could even reach the doorknob, the front door swung open.

"Hidey-ho Tann-er-en-o's!" Squealed Kimmy Gibbler.

"What do you want, you stupid little troll?" questioned Joey in a very un-Joey like moment of toughness.

"Hey, bitch. Don't get an attitude with the Gibster. I'll knock you the fuck out! And, anyway, where is DJ? She was supposed to meet me at the bike racks, but never showed!" Kimmy screamed, pushing her tiny chest into Joey's ample midsection.

Joey, knowingly defeated by this sixty-pound teenager, hung his head and said in his best moose voice, "I dunno, she was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago."

Kimmy flung her head back in and laughed mockingly, "Oh well, I'll just wait in her room. Bring me a snack, will you?"

Joey nodded slightly and walked back into the kitchen as Kimmy hopped up the stairs, two at a time, humming the latest New Kids on the Block single under her breath.

Once Kimmy was out of sight, Joey slammed the kitchen door. Well, slammed the door as best as one could, considering it was on hinges and didn't actually close. _No matter_, he thought, _I'm going get her. Get her good. Stupid bitch tells me to fix her a snack. I'll get all of them. Some day._

Joey slammed around the kitchen making much more noise than required to make peanut butter graham crackers, but the noise made him feel better. As he was pulling a jar of Skippy from the cupboard, he heard the backdoor quietly close. He turned around just in time to see DJ sneak up the back staircase.

"Hold it right there, missy!" Joey commanded from his post behind the counter.

"Oh, Joey," stammered DJ. "I didn't see you there! How are you?"

"I'm just fine. Where have you been, young lady? You are late!"

"Joey, shut up alright? I am not fucking perfect you know?" DJ yelled.

Joey's expression softened. He certainly wasn't perfect either, he reasoned, so how could he expect DJ to be? Just as he was about to let her go, he noticed something peculiar.

"Deej? Why is your shirt inside out?"

DJ looked around nervously. _Motherfucker! _She thought. _How could I be so stupid? How could Steve be so stupid, for that matter? I mean, he didn't fucking notice that my shirt was inside out? This is the last time we do it behind the Dumpster at the 7-11_ DJ vowed to herself.

"Um, yeah. Well, Kimmy and I were trying on clothes over at her house and, er, well, I guess I just didn't notice," said DJ slowly, unconvincingly.

"Is that so?" Questioned Joey. "Kimmy is up in your room right now, as a matter of fact, looking for you."

"Shut up, Joey! You are so fucking lame! I mean, you live with two other dudes and play with puppets and watch Ninja Turtles!" cried DJ.

Joey, defeated yet again, hung his head in shame and handed DJ the plate of snacks for Kimmy Gibbler. She grabbed the plate from his hands and stomped up the stairs, deliberately pounding her feet as hard as she could on the wood.

DJ reached her bedroom door and flung it open with fury, "Kimmy! I need your help!"

Kimmy sat crossed legged on DJ's bed, a lip-shaped telephone in her bony grasp. She rolled her eyes lazily and turned to her best friend, "What the hell do you want now?"

DJ silently reached into her neon pink book bag and pulled out a distinctive white package and slid it on the bed in front of her friend.

Kimmy sighed, "Not again, you fuckwit. I thought that you learned your lesson last time."

DJ looked at her with tears in her eyes, "I did. I really did," she insisted. "It's just that Steve is so fucking stupid. I mean, how hard is it to pull out?"

Kimmy smiled knowingly. It was certainly true that DJ's boyfriend Steve was a moron, even dumber than Kimmy herself, which was quite an accomplishment, but man, he was hot. Although she would never admit it to DJ, Kimmy and Steve had a few late afternoon "study" sessions where Kimmy experienced first-hand Steve's uncanny expertise in the sack.

Kimmy took the pregnancy test out of the box and handed it to her friend. Sadly, this was the second time they had gone through this routine. Kimmy looked her friend straight in the eye and said, "Deej, if this happens again, I'm going to tell your father. I mean, obviously you are too stupid to have this kind of relationship."

DJ laughed cruelly, "You fucking bitch. If you tell my dad about Steve than I'll tell the whole school that you stuff your bra!"

Kimmy didn't even look phased, "Well, I think that's pretty obvious anyway, don't you think? I mean how else does someone who weighs sixty pounds have double D's? Doesn't really take a rocket scientist to figure that out, you stupid heifer." She settled back down on the bed and coolly popped a graham cracker into her mouth.

DJ's mouth dropped open, "Well, than, Ms. Smarty pants, I'll just tell your mom and dad how you keep your trim little figure, you Ano-freak! Ah, wouldn't that be sweet! Another summer of 'visiting your aunt in Michigan' ah-hem, I mean REHAB! They think you are all better, don't they? Well, wouldn't they just love to hear how their little girl is still hacking up seven times a day?"

"You wouldn't dare!" screamed Kimmy.

"Wouldn't I?" questioned DJ tauntingly.

Kimmy, horrified, raced out of the bedroom and into the bathroom down the hall, slamming the door behind her. DJ walked calmly behind her and listened, satisfactorily through the door as her best friend desperately expelled what little remained in her aching belly.


End file.
